“Once or twice is enough for me.” He grinned. “Usually it’s the Speed brothers who are mentioned by their fans. Not their band manager.”
“My brother’s just completed a course in marketing. He, er, wrote a term paper on you. You’re kind of his hero.”
“I’m flattered.” He was. Kaz could see it in his eyes. “Tell your brother I say hey.”
“I will.” She couldn’t wait to see Ollie’s reaction. He’d likely drop dead from jealousy. Demand to know every detail about their meeting. Kaz would tell him. She’d just leave out some important bits. Like the instant desire that had struck her. Like the way he made her heart race like crazy. Like the four bajillion goose bumps that had broken out over her skin.
She glanced at her arm, at the very place Luke held it. How intriguing that a stranger’s hand should feel so right wrapped around her forearm like that. So…seductive.
Luke glanced there too, then met her gaze. He didn’t drop his hand, and she didn’t ask him to. As if by mutual consent, they carried on walking, Kaz picking up the conversation as if nothing had happened. As if no silent communication had passed between them, and as if her arm weren’t burning up from his very touch.
“I’m surprised you’d be on this side of the arena,” Kaz mused. “I’d expect the band manager to be backstage now, handling any last-minute crises, ensuring everything flows smoothly.”
He nodded. “Usually I would be there. But someone asked that I personally look into the mess-up with the seats. I couldn’t refuse.”
“Someone? You mean the usher at the door?”
A heartbeat passed before he answered, and when he did, light twinkled in his eyes. “Yeah. Sure. The usher.”
Oooh, he so hadn’t told her the truth with that answer. She slowed to a stop and searched his aura for signs of lemony green, an indication that he might willfully be lying, but found nothing. He still vibrated in colors that inspired her confidence and trust. The only thing different about his aura was the brightening of the carmine and a small spot of scarlet that had appeared below his belly. A spot that wasn’t there before they’d begun talking.
Scarlet. The color of desire. And lust.
The same darn color that was swelling from her in waves.
He tugged gently on her arm, spurring her into a walk again. They headed down the same staircase she and her friends had ascended not ten minutes ago.
“It wasn’t the usher, was it?” Kaz pushed him.
“Who else would it have been?” His question was shrouded in innocence.
She frowned. The man was evading the question. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Know what I’d like to know?” He looked over at her as he asked, his mouth curved into a smile, his eyes still twinkling and his voice low and intimate.
At that point Kaz would have told him anything. Anything at all. Phone number, credentials, bank details. They were his. All he needed to do was ask. “No. What?”
“Your name.”
“Oh. Uh. Kaz. Kaz Flaherty.”
“Kaz? Unusual name.”
“It’s short for Karen.”
“Well, Kaz, you ready to see your new seats?” He stopped at a door clearly marked “No Entry”.
She blinked. Er, no. Not if it meant an end to their conversation. “You still haven’t told me who asked you to sort out the mess.”
“I know. And I will. Later.” He pushed the door open as Sophie and Tasha caught up. A wave of sound crashed over them. The sound of eighty thousand screaming voices.
Luke lifted his palm, indicating the three friends should walk through the door.
Kaz did as he asked—and gasped.
He turned to Sophie. “Front-row seats okay with you?”
Holy heck. Front-row seats at the Speed concert? Now, more than ever, Kaz wanted to know who’d asked Luke to sort out the mess.
Tasha laughed in delight. Sophie asked if he was kidding.
“We never kid about the front row.” Luke’s tone was solemn but loud enough to be heard over the roar around them. He led them past the massive crowds of people in the standing-room-only section, towards the VIP seats in the center of the floor. “See the three seats in the middle?” he half-yelled. “Those are yours.”
“But—”
Sophie’s objection was cut off with another of his beautiful smiles. “Look, the mistake was ours. We double-booked your tickets, and the concert is completely sold out. This is the only alternative seating we could come up with on the spur of the moment. Please, accept our apologies and take the seats.”
Sophie and Tasha stared at him, disbelieving.
He turned to Kaz, squeezing her arm gently. “The seats are yours,” he said into her ear, making sure she could hear. “Take them. Please.” His breath washed over her neck, giving her shivers.
“Okay.” Because what else could she say when Speed’s band manager offered her the best seats in the house while he held her arm in his hand and whispered in her ear?
He nodded his approval. “Good.”
Kaz wanted to angle her head to the side in the hopes he’d nibble her neck.
“Now tell your friends to sit in them.”
“Go.” Kaz shooed Sophie and Tasha towards the chairs. “Sit. Quickly. Before he changes his mind.”
Luke’s laugh told her he had no such intention. The low rumble in her ear vibrated through her chest, making her breasts tighten in awareness.
Looking as baffled as she felt, Sophie and Tash thanked Luke profusely and headed over to the three middle seats. Kaz would have scurried after them, but Luke still held her arm in a firm, pussy-wetting grasp. Besides, she couldn’t seem to drag her feet away from him. Plus, she wanted answers.
“Later?” she asked him.
He drew back to look at her in confusion.
“You said you’d answer my question later.”
The twinkle was back in his eye. “I will. I’ll answer all your questions. Because believe me, by then you’re going to have more than one.”
What the…? What else was there to ask? “Mate, the concert’s about to begin. There isn’t going to be a later.”
He looked at her with eyes as liquid and enticing as melted chocolate. “Yeah, there will be. After the concert.”
“After?”
“After,” he confirmed. “Sit tight here, and I’ll see you after the concert.”
Kaz laughed then. Yeah, right. Sure he would. Because band managers of world-famous rock bands always made sure they saw arbitrary audience members after a show.
Luke gave a low whistle as he regarded her. “Oh, ye of little faith.” Then he did something that shocked Kaz. He lifted the arm he still held to his mouth and kissed the palm of her hand—sending a flurry of goose bumps up her arm. “Trust me, sweet pea. I’ll see you after the show.”
And with Kaz’s jaw gaping open—again—Luke Struthers turned and walked out of the arena through the same door they’d walked through. The one with the neon sign hanging on it that said, “No Entry.”
* * * *
“He is not.” Kaz stared indignantly at Tasha, who’d just told her she thought Luke was gay.
Sophie surprised her by agreeing with Tasha. “Definitely gay. But gorgeous, nevertheless. With a beautiful smile. Still doesn’t explain why we’re in the front row.”
Kaz harrumphed but said no more. Like Sophie, she couldn’t understand why Luke had seated them there. Unlike Sophie, her ability to read colors had told her clearly that the band manager liked women. She had no idea how he felt about men, but there was a definite spark between her and him. A lovely scarlet red spark that even now pulsed from her, even though Luke had walked away.
Would he come back? Would she get to ask him any more questions?
Kaz, Tasha and Sophie chatted and laughed throughout the supporting act’s performance, but everything changed when Jordan and Jonah Speed walked onstage.
As Jordan strummed his first note on the guitar and Jona
h sat behind him on drums, the crowd erupted into mayhem, and Kaz’s knees went weak. Jordan was even more beautiful in real life than all those glossy magazines had given him credit for. Even telly screens did not do him justice. He was smaller than his drummer brother. Slimmer and leaner. And utterly perfect. His jeans hugged his legs, his long, slim fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar, and Kaz melted.
He stood so close she imagined she could reach out and touch him. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch him. Run her hands over his unshaven cheeks, press her mouth to his full, luscious lips, stare into his startling green eyes and let him set his guitar down so he could pluck her instead of the strings.
For a few seconds she wished she could make out Jordan’s aura, but the smoke erupting from the stage made it impossible. Colors merged together in an unrecognizable smudge. The only hue she could identify was a touch of carmine red, pulsing from Jordan just like it had pulsed from Luke.
Or maybe that was her imagination. Her imagination was having a field day, letting her mind race free, giving her a chance to picture herself not only with Jordan’s long, slender fingers caressing her naked skin, but Luke’s as well.
What wasn’t her imagination was the way Jordan’s gaze kept returning to the front row where she, Tasha and Sophie sat. He was watching them?
Impossible, she told herself when Jordan looked at Jonah, and then the two brothers both looked over at the front row and grinned. Absolutely impossible. There was no way in hell they were looking at her and her friends. Even more impossible was what happened next. Jamie Speed walked onstage singing. Which would have been no surprise at all—considering this was a Speed concert—except he danced across the stage, came to stand directly in front of them and with his gaze pinned on Sophie, blew her a kiss.
The rest of the concert passed in a haze of fantasies come true. For Sophie anyway. Kaz simply stood on her feet, her legs moving naturally to the rhythm of the music pumping through the stadium, feeling nothing less than awed.
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